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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27903019">To George: My Muse who never requited my love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/manciissuperior/pseuds/manciissuperior'>manciissuperior</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>To George; Love, Clay [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Confessions Kind Of, Fluff, Inspired by Music, M/M, Metaphors, Stargazing, Synesthesia, Unrequited Love, a lot of metaphors once again, gay blockmen !!, more angst than fluff but yes, no beta we die like men, unrequited requited love that is actually unrequited</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:40:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,581</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27903019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/manciissuperior/pseuds/manciissuperior</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps Clay’s biggest mistake was when he fell in love with someone who never reciprocated it. Or maybe when he was unable to fall out of it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>To George; Love, Clay [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To George: My Muse who never requited my love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoluwuqueen/gifts">smoluwuqueen</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for the amazing noeo, once again :)<br/>this is an antecedent for my latest work because inspiration hit me and i had to do it</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Mhm - George."<br/>
"What?" he smoothed his face, softly - his hands, finally resting on his chin, like a simple and gentle brushstroke. "Would you like anything?"<br/>
“You” chuckled at his own joke and then with the same bright smile that remained on his face, he continued, “really, nothing. I'm glad you came here with me today. We don't have the opportunity many times lately to do so, and I appreciate you spending your time with me now.”<br/>
"I'm sorry - lately... I'm very busy lately."<br/>
“Of course, don’t worry about it. I understand, ”he looked at him kindly. <em>Oh, if he knew then.</em></p><p>It was around this time that Clay began painting - under the influence of George, whose pleasure he could not stop from throwing it on canvas. He did not consider his beauty to belong to this world, and he had to give the desire what he longed for. And that - a record of this beauty. Like some medieval copy of any codex - it was so important. He didn't think it would be anything special - he'd never painted before, but he was too motivated not to. He felt his duty as if he were the writer of some mighty empire whose all duties were; create, create and create. And he created. Until bloody numb hands, until he felt his spine collapse under his weight - while he had the strength to form, to create. Although he continued even then, because it was made for Him — someone he never wanted to disappoint, someone he wanted to see happily forever. Until the end of the world - He was important.<br/>
He who was brighter than any star in the entire universe - according to Clay. Every day when he saw Him, every time, he muttered that, until the other believed it.<br/>
   Clay was just a weak, dilapidated planet orbiting a larger, much more significant one until the world was over - He, he was the one who mattered.<br/>
   He, the most beautiful planet that could have been part of any Solar System, that could have been part of any universe, - He. He was the one who shone on him with a slightly yellowish light, for in the spring everything became new, and awoke at dawn. <br/>
And come on, who would Clay have resisted this desire for creation that the gods suggested to him?</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>George sighed and tapped on the button to open the folder that hides his voicemails - that he wanted to view and listen to. There was a soft smile on his face at the sight of a name and he immediately pressed on its message;<br/>
"Hi. Ugh,” there was laughter from the end of the other line. “I don’t know how I should start this, you know? I don’t want to be embarrassed and you know how often I’m the “sigh. “Would you like to say - let’s watch stars together? Go out somewhere? Maybe like… like a date? Maybe if - if it's good for you. Khm, yes, um - yes, that's all… I. We will talk later, yeah? Um, good. Bye George! I’m glad I was able to leave you a message ”the call ended with an awkward laugh - more of a message than a call, but that didn’t really interest George, he believes bass. He had just been called on a date - and it was done by someone he respected. Revered, revered - and attracted to him, as if he were attracted to the magnetism of a planet, but honestly? He wasn't sure. He had never dealt well with feelings and had an awful lot of doubts or questions. Was he really attracted to it? Did he really like him? Or did he just want someone’s love to feed his ego? And he could never decide. Never.</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p><br/>
"Well, what date did you talk about in a message a few days ago, Clay?" the brunette brought up a topic — while they were having lunch together in one of the more secluded hallways of the university — before the other swallowed the bite in his mouth. "Don't choke, please."<br/>
"Did you listen to it?" the other raised an eyebrow - trying to compose himself.<br/>
"Well," George smiled at him. "I listen to everything you send me - unless I'm picking up the phone." <br/>
"I... I see" he agreed. “I thought we could go to, say, our favorite places in the city? For example, we could go to the library at first - have a picnic at the usual place and maybe stargaze. ”<br/>
"Oh, I see. Sounds like a good idea, ”he smiled at him again with the captivating, brilliant smile he gave to few - which few deserved. And Clay, oh Clay, how proud he was, how proud he felt, because he - he got this, unlike others. It was so special - who else would have given that smile? He was special and better than the others — others could not feel this light, the light that sounded like a bird song in his ears, whenever he could see it.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p><br/>
"Sometimes I feel like I'm sick of the Sun."<br/>
George tilted his head to the side — exactly on Clay's shoulder, then looked up at the boy. "Would you mind explaining?"<br/>
"Too much. Too bright, too strong… too big. But without it, you wouldn't be either, and I owe that to it - you who are brighter than it. ” He received a smile in return, then George grabbed his free hand, clasped their fingers, and pointed up to the dark sky above them, pointing to where to look.<br/>
"There," he pointed to the side with his index finger. “It’s like we’re there. Side by side - two bright stars in the distance. Did you know that we look at the past anytime we look up at the sky? After all, you may not know how far since it raced towards us - but, going back to our previous topic. Take it all this, just like a canvas. And the Sun is as small a part of it just as we are. It will always be there, it was and is - just like us. ”<br/>
"Mhm" nodded.<br/>
“Think of the two of us there, one brushstroke at a time, with the lightest color that can only be painted. The strongest, the most beautiful - the most like Us. ”<br/>
Surrounded with a sigh, he pulled down their arms clasped together and opened his mouth to speak.<br/>
“Thank you for tonight, Clay. It was wonderful. ”<br/>
Was it wonderful? It was more wonderful than the miracle itself, George would have said. No matter how much he wanted to admit how much he loved - or didn’t love - Clay, he couldn’t deny that their evening wasn’t perfect. He enjoyed it so much, he enjoyed being treated as someone, if not more. He enjoyed it so much that he finally, finally someone honored him too. He liked that in the blonde - how much he could appreciate his despite his mistakes. He never made time for it, he never spoke and he, yet He waited for him there, let him take his time, called him his Muse - and oh, oh how much George would have lied if he said he didn't enjoy it. Because he enjoyed it - more than anything else anyone gave him. He was respected, loved, and did not receive this - this, from anyone else. Especially not like this.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p><br/>
"You - you haven't answered in a while George… Did I upset you with something?" he felt a hand touch his shoulder and turned back.<br/>
“Don’t worry, - I just, I just didn’t have time,” he stammered. Lied.<br/>
“You always say that and… and there’s really nothing wrong with that. But George, why don't you have time for Me? There is something else - I, why can't I fit into the frame, George? ” the blonde faced him with a desperate face — as if his heart had just been broken.<br/>
"Clay - Clay, I'm really sorry."<br/>
"Your pity doesn't fix it, George," he sighed in frustration. “Just, just tell me, okay? Why wasn't I enough for you? What the fuck did I do wrong? What was it that was too little for you? I… I tried so hard, you know? I’ve shown you how much I love you so many times - so many times that there’s no question of it. And you, do you still decide that it wasn't enough? At least you wouldn't have done it without a word, for God's sake. "<br/>
It might have been a few minutes and Clay's grip weakened until his hand fell back to his own body. “I'm going to leave, thank you for the amazing conversation. Never again George, never again. Don't write, don't call - don't look, and if I don't - you shouldn't do it too. ”<br/>
  And George, though, stood in the middle of the hallway in the middle of a crowd of fewer and fewer people, alone.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The phone rang.</p><p>One more time.</p><p>And one more time.<br/>
Clay didn't pick it up - and George? He honestly understood why.<br/>
Because he wasn't in love, he couldn't reciprocate that - then why was he feeling guilty? He should not have been. Still, he was — more than he wanted to admit.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>   Clay was lost — he felt lost, and it was after that, who knows how long — until maybe the sunlight reached him? Until he became one with the dark? For there was no one to shine anymore, and there was no one to shine for him.<br/>
   He was a lost, burnt star. He was a lost, starless planet that was not only orbiting, but no longer orbiting its own axis.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading! i hope you had fun :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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